[Lovett]
There was this barber and his wife
And he was beautiful
A proper artist with a knife
But they transported him for life
And he was beautiful!

{spoken} Barker, his name was. Benjamin Barker.
[Todd] Transported... what was his crime?
[Lovett] Foolishness

He had this wife, y'see
Pretty little thing
Silly little nit
Had her chance for the moon on a string
Poor thing! Poor thing!
There were these two, y'see
Wanted her like mad
One of 'em a judge, other one his beadle!
Everyday they'd nudge and they'd wheedle!
Stil she wouldn't budge from her needle!
Too bad, pure thing!
So they merely shipped the poor blighter off south, they did
Leaving her with nothing 'cept grief and a year-old kid!
Did she use her head even then? Oh, no! God forbid!
Poor fool!
Ah, but there was worse yet to come, poor thing...

{spoken} Johanna. That was the baby's name. Pretty, little Johanna.
[Todd] Go on.
[Lovett] My, you do like a good story, don't you?

Well, Beadle calls on her all polite
Poor thing, poor thing
The judge, he tells her is all contrite
He blames himself for her dreadful plight
She must come straight to his house tonight
Poor thing, poor thing!

Of course when she goes there,
Poor thing, poor thing,
They're 'aving this ball all in masks.
There's no one she knows there,
Poor dear, poor thing.
She wanders tormented and drinks, poor thing!
The judge has repented, she thinks, poor thing!
"Oh where is Judge Turpin?" she asks...
He was there alright
Only not so contrite!

She wasn't no match for such craft, y'see,
And everyone thought it so droll.
They figured she had to be daft, y'see,
So all of them stood there and laughed, y'see!
Poor soul!
Poor thing!